


In the Boudoir

by hogwartswitch



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anniversary, Corsetry, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Gift Giving, Illustrations, M/M, Photography
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-19 01:37:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4727924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hogwartswitch/pseuds/hogwartswitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock receives an offer for a free photography session and uses it to give John a surprise anniversary gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Boudoir

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SuperOreoMan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperOreoMan/gifts).



> This was a ficlet & art collaboration between [myself](http://cleverwholigan.tumblr.com) and TheGlitteryPotato. If you enjoy our work, please check out [my works on AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hogwartswitch/works) or hit us up on Tumblr for more shenanigans.

  


A year after they married, Sherlock solved a case for a photographer. It turned out, his girlfriend was stealing his work and selling it online. The photographer, grateful for Sherlock's help, offered him a free photography session any time he'd have a need.

"Seriously, mate," the man said. "Portrait session? Headshots?" He lowered his voice and raised an eyebrow. "Boudoir photos?"

"Excuse me?" Sherlock's head jerked up.

"It's all the rage these days," the photographer insisted. "Guys doing boudoir photos? Your girlfriend would love it!"

Sherlock refused, face red. But here it was, three weeks later and he fingered the photographer's card as he punched in the number on his mobile. His and John's first anniversary was next week and he'd spent all this time trying to think of a proper gift.

***

The photography session, surprisingly, went better than Sherlock expected. The photographer seemed surprised at the attire Sherlock chose, but he shrugged and said, "Whatever floats your boat, mate."

He'd asked the man to come to 221B, because he wanted the photos taken in a place John would recognize. The photographer spent three hours snapping photos of Sherlock in the three outfits he'd chosen and then he left, promising to e-mail prints for Sherlock to choose.

***

"What's this, then?" John asked, when Sherlock slipped him the wrapped box at breakfast.

"Happy anniversary, John." Sherlock kissed John's temple and sat across from him, a nervous flutter in his stomach.

"I thought we weren't doing gifts?" John asked, his voice accusing. "I didn't get you anything!"

"It's all right. This was a last minute idea. Open it."

He'd put the prints in a simple, hand-carved wooden box that he'd found at an outdoor market one day while he'd been chasing a lead on one of his cases. Sherlock wrapped the box in heavy, expensive black paper he'd bought at a stationery store, and wrapped in a red silk ribbon. John carefully untied the ribbon and slipped the box from the paper, exclaiming over the honeybee carved intricately on the lid.

"The gift is inside, actually." Sherlock said, reaching over and unlatching the box.

John lifted the lid and took out the photos that nested inside. He went quiet, his lips pursed, as he looked at the photos.

Sherlock had chosen the corset and stocking set to match his favorite dressing gown. He'd never told John that he'd wanted to dress this way, but Sherlock enjoyed the feeling of silk and lace on his skin. He loved the way the corset cinched at his waist, giving his slim body a slightly more feminine appearance. In the first photo, he stretched his arms and arched his back, jutting forward so that the light caught the scarlet red corset. A red ribbon - the same ribbon, in fact, that bound the package - had been tied around his neck in a bow. John flipped through the photos. A close-up of Sherlock's face, his eyes soft and full of longing as he stared into the camera. Another close-up, this one focused on the details of the corset, the red and black ribbing standing out against Sherlock's pale skin.

John rifled through the photos again, not saying a word. Sherlock squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. He felt dread form in his stomach and his face flamed hot with embarrassment.

"You don't like them," he muttered. "I-I'll take them back, it's okay. You don't have to look at them."

He reached over to snatch the photos from John, feeling himself shrink smaller and smaller as he sat there. John stayed his hand, grabbing his wrist gently.

"No, don't take them," John said, softly.

He brought Sherlock's hand up to his mouth and pressed a kiss on Sherlock's palm. He smiled at Sherlock, his eyes holding a depth of affection Sherlock never tired of seeing in his husband's gaze.

"You're breathtaking, you know that?" John asked. "I love them."

"You do?"

"I do," John replied, nuzzling Sherlock's palm with his cheek. "But I have one question."

Sherlock was distracted by John's skin, by his gentle touch and the warmth that radiated from him, as though he were Sherlock's own, personal sun.

"W-what is it?" He whispered.

John leaned forward, his eyes growing dark as a seductive smile curled at the edges of his mouth. "Do you still have the corset?"


End file.
